


Present Continuous

by nuclearwinter



Series: Pleonasms [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Domestic Fluff, Incest, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-25 02:19:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6176458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nuclearwinter/pseuds/nuclearwinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dirk and Dave, first year college same-age-uncle-and-nephew flatmates who had an incestuous fling, face up against the notorious Morning After and... more sexy things ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The levels of self indulgence in this could probably kill small mammals. Beware.

Dirk is sitting at the kitchen table. Earlier he had managed to escape from the bed while Dave was still asleep to shower and gel his hair and shave, and now he is chewing on toast and reflecting on the fact that this isn't the first time he's consciously primped before Dave got up.

He is not an idiot, honestly. He had known approximately five seconds after Dave had made him cry-laugh by doing voices over that Barbie horse game in the kiddie room of that awful diner where they'd met that this dude was solidly his type and he had some very unfortunate feelings.

He'd analysed it and decided it was probably just a mixture of puberty hormones, the absence of the Westermarck effect and a touch of narcissism, and decided it would go away if he focused on other things. The problematic feelings did wane every time Dave said something homophobic, and Dirk had been trying to focus on that. He'd been telling himself that even though Dave was a cool guy and they clicked unbelievably well, Dirk had more self respect than to waste emotions on someone who considered 'no homo' an adroit rejoinder. Plus, the fact that they were related was a big reason to smother any feelings in the the already-dysfunctional family cradle.

Even so, Dirk had had the same embarrassing urges he had around other, non-his-nephew hot guys: to look his best, to come off cool, and to engineer things that made them happy. The 'crush', if such a term was even accurate, wasn't unmanageable, though. Dirk could be accused of having pulled some smooth moves in his time, but aside from being reluctant to let Dave see him with bed hair he had seriously been doing his absolute best to make his straight bro comfortable and keep clear boundaries.

That is why he'd felt sort of upset last night, when Dave had seemed so uncomfortable around him. There was only so much Dirk could handle spinning himself in circles worrying whether he was doing something inappropriate or whether it was Dave's homophobia making perfectly normal things weird.

Now, as he washes his dish in the sink, he knows he had been absolutely wrong on every level, and he'd be more annoyed at himself had it not been… well. Pretty much the best outcome ever.

He washes the dish longer than strictly necessary, enjoying the feel of the water on his hands. Dirk is aware of the fact that Dave is probably going to have a gay freak-out at some point, but he is prepared to deal with it. He isn't all that interested in holding straight guys' hands through Sociology 101, but an LGBT kid with internalised bullshit? His own bro Dave going through it? Nah. He is going to be so fucking there for that guy.

A door clicks somewhere in the apartment, then the shower starts running.

Dirk suddenly feels kind of nervous. He honestly hasn't really… Well, he is eighteen, nobody would expect him to have a vast wealth of life experience. His sexual activity so far has mainly been limited to house party hookups with older guys and one weird middle school boyfriend. He's never actually dealt with… a morning after.

The shower shuts off. He busies himself in the fridge.

Dave finally opens the door and shuffles into the kitchen area. He looks a little nervous, but like he is trying not to be. Yeah, it's going to be up to Dirk to set the tone.

"Good morning," Dirk says.

"Uh, morning."

"Let's not beat around the bush here. This is kind of awkward. But like, hopefully the good kind of awkward. Want some juice?"

Dave nods.

"Are you feeling okay?" Dirk continues.

"Oh, yeah."

Dirk gives him the cup and Dave immediately starts sipping, like it'll give him an excuse to stall on talking.

"Well, cool."

Dave puts the cup down and acts casually interested in the condensation. "Um. I meant what I said last night," he says, drawing a face in the water droplets.

"About being insanely attracted to me?"

" _You_ said that, not me."

"You agreed."

Dave starts smiling like he can't help himself and a whole lot of tension leaches out of Dirk's shoulders.

"Yeah, I did," says Dave, to the cup.

Dirk decides he has to dry the dishes right fucking now.

Dave gets up to wash his cup, and stands very close, almost like he's daring himself to do it, or like he's calibrating something. Dirk decides offering some extra data can't hurt, and he nudges Dave gently with his elbow.

He gets a nudge in return, and Dave stays close until he finishes washing the cup.

"I have to go soon, I have a class," he says.

Dirk knows, he made Dave stick his schedule to the fridge. "All right then, catch you."

"Yeah." He picks up his bag from the table and heads out the door.

 

* * *

 

Dave, having locked the front door behind himself, is having a tiny freak out. But like, sort of a happy one. Happy and stressed?

Things had been kind of normal. Maybe better than normal? Definitely not the ruination of their broship he had been worrying over in the shower. He feels like even though a new kind of stress has wormed into his guts, some ancient stress he had hardly been aware he was carrying has been given a beating.

During his lecture, he keeps staring at his hand where it rests on the foldout desk, like. Last night, this hand touched a dick. A dude's dick. The dick of a dude. He hopes to god people can't somehow tell, and catches himself before he sniffs his hand like a disgusting weirdo. No, there's no way anyone could know. But even so, as he turns the idea of it all over and over in his head, it doesn't feel bad. Even though it's his uncle… Okay, that feels kind of bad. But. Dirk...

This hand touched Dirk's hair while Dirk blew him.

This hand touched Dirk's nipple.

Okay. He stops himself before he gets a boner in class.

The world feels like it's lit differently, today. When he stops by the bakery on the way home, he sits down at one of the outside tables for a bit, and lets himself sort of… look.

He people-watches a lot anyway, but this time he lets himself really look at… dudes. Is that guy attractive? Is he attractive to Dave? He realises that even though his shades would have kept it a secret, he'd been forcing himself to not look (or think) anyway, like there'd been a giant _no homo_ firewall in his brain.

He picks up a cup of Dirk's favourite black horrible shit and some churros and heads home.

When he comes in the door, Dirk is in the lounge area on the desktop they have set up in there, messing around with something that looks like code.

"Hey," says Dave, shrugging his bag off his shoulder and letting it thump to the floor.

"Oh, hey."

"Got you some coffee." Dave sets the stuff on a clear space on the desk.

"Thanks man, wow. What do I owe you?"

Dave flops onto the shit sofa. "Nah, it's cool."

He watches Dirk dig through the bag and then go back to work, chewing on a churro.

A little self-consciously, he lets himself check Dirk out, like he had the guys on the sidewalk. He lets his eyes linger on Dirk's shoulders, and not in the bitter way he had been twisting himself up over last night. He looks at Dirk's arms. His thighs in those tight jeans.

His eyes flick up to find Dirk looking back. Dave feels himself blush, also suddenly very aware of the way he's spreadeagled on the sofa. They are both wearing shades but…

"What are you thinking about?" Dirk asks.

"Umm," says Dave, cleverly.

Dirk licks cinnamon and sugar from his thumb casually, and Dave feels himself blush harder. There's a geyser of stupid shit about to burst out, mainly about phallic foodstuffs. He tries to clamp down, but finds himself blurting, "I thought of the gayest thing."

Dirk twitches nearly imperceptibly. "You mean actually gay, and not as an umbrella term for something you don't like?"

Dave squirms a little. "Yeah, uh, the first one. God, am I really that bad? Have I been an asshole?"

Dirk hums. "I wouldn't say that. It's hard to pick apart how society trains you to think. Hey, no need to make that face." Dave's face is perfectly neutral, actually. "Like, look. You know my situation, and even so, when I was younger I had such a thing against like, what I considered 'faggy' guys.”

"What do you mean?"

"Stereotypical gay guys? Effeminate guys?" Dave nods slowly. "Well, I'd think to myself, do you need to act like that, we aren't women, this is why straight people don't think we are normal… I was reluctant to share a label with other gay guys, and resisted identifying as such. But then I grew up and realised what that meant I must think deep down about femininity, which was fucked up. And why should anyone care what straight people think, you know?"

"Oh… hm. I guess I never really thought about it."

"Yeah, no shit. You didn't realise I'm gay and you've seen my screensaver slideshow."

"I thought it was ironic," Dave mumbles, as Dirk gets up from the chair and starts to walk over.

"So, what was the gay thing you wanted to say?"

"I will say it when you least expect it." Yeah, he's lost his nerve. Horrendous come-ons can wait; Dirk is standing within grabbing distance. Dave tugs him down.

Dirk tastes like bitter coffee and sticky sugar. His mouth opens hot and easy, letting Dave push deep inside, and then he is pushing back into Dave's, wet and smooth and sending blood rushing to awesome places. Dirk's knee slips off the sofa and bangs onto the floor, making Dave snort into his mouth. Then he yelps as Dirk digs his fingers in and drags him onto the floor.

There's a brief struggle that ends with the computer chair getting knocked over. It's really hot that Dirk isn't even out of breath, Dave thinks. Hot and also fucking annoying. He wriggles and squirms and tries to get free, but he has both his wrists trapped under Dirk's knees (how) and Dirk sitting heavy on his stomach (why) and then Dirk _bounces_ like an asshole.

Dave makes a sound like a dry-heaving giraffe and tries to knee Dirk in the back, but Dirk is sitting on him too high up for it to hurt much. Both of Dirk's hands are free because somehow his devil calves are strong enough to withstand even Dave's most desperate yanking.

"No, no, no, no," Dave _definitely_ doesn't whine as Dirk reaches down slowly. He plucks Dave's glasses off his face and sets them down, then slowly puts a hand on his neck.

Dave forces himself not to react. His body is still tingling from the kissing and the rolling around, and he prickles all over, hyper-aware of all his vulnerable spots.

Dirk strokes Dave's neck unhurriedly, and Dave slowly tilts his head to squash Dirk's hand between his chin and shoulder.

"This isn't dignified for either of us," he tries, heart hammering. Dirk puts his other hand on the exposed curve of the other side of Dave's neck. "Don't do this, it's gonna get ugly."

"Hmmmm," says Dirk.

He wiggles his fingers. For a few agonising seconds Dave is unable to do anything but shriek helplessly, until he finally thrashes his arms free and rolls over between Dirk's legs, which unfortunately just opens up his ribs for attack.

"Aughhhhh I'm going to murder you," he gasps into the carpet.

"I'm not ticklish anyway," says Dirk.

Dave yells something like _fuuuuuck oooooff you liiiiaaaarrr_ between scream-laughs, desperately grabbing.

"Shh bro, you're annoying the neighbours."

"You!!!! Fuck!!!!"

He gives up on words and dissolves into desperate giggles. He feels like he's going to die. No matter which way he tries to curl in on himself, Dirk's fingers find an opening.

Dave gives up on trying to counterattack and manages to worm his way forward and crawl across the carpet until he bangs into the couch, pink-faced and sensitive.

Dirk flops onto the floor too. Dave eyes him speculatively. What if he _is_ ticklish? But no. revenge is a dish best served cold. He sits up gingerly and looks at his wrists, which have big red marks on them. He has a carpet burn on his hip too. Dirk crawls closer to look, and Dave is too tired to flinch.

"Oops," says Dirk.

"I'm maimed."

"Disfigured," says Dirk. "Hideous."

"However will I fetch a husband now?"

"Don't expect me to take responsibility," says Dirk. "You were repulsive from the start."

Dave tries to punch him and they end up holding hands.

"God," says Dave, "we are too old to be rolling around on the floor." Not that he'd ever actually done that with anyone before, even when he was little.

"That's disappointing," says Dirk, "I was going to kiss you better."

"Damn."

"Is that a _damn, I would have loved an up and close session with your godlike mouthparts_ , or a _damn, I can't believe you used a line that corny_?"

"Guess." Dave slides his free hand up over Dirk's shoulders and pulls him in for another kiss. It's closed-mouthed and gentle, and his palm tingles with the little shiver that goes through Dirk.

He plucks at Dirk's bottom lip, and the next time he angles in Dirk opens up and lets him right in. He still tastes like churros.

Dave muzzily becomes aware that Dirk is leaning them back, until he is nearly hanging from Dirk's neck, and then the floor is hard under his sore hip and the base of the couch is prickling his back and Dirk is pressed all up along his front.

When Dirk pulls back, Dave pushes at him and rolls on top. Their mouths separate with a wet sound and Dirk's hands fly to his ass. (Typical.)

"God," says Dave. Dirk's thighs squeeze one of his where his knee is planted between them on the ground, and Dirk's hand is trying to worm underneath his jeans. "Are we going too fast?"

Dirk's hands leave him. "You set the pace," he says. "I'm seriously good with whatever."

Dave takes one of Dirk's hands and pulls it between them to rest on his belt buckle. He appreciates Dirk being a prince charming, he honestly does, but Dave is too keyed up. He struggles to breathe normally as Dirk tugs his belt open, and then gets his jeans unzipped. His waistband cuts into his lower back a little as Dirk pushes their hands inside, and Dave feels the tendons in Dirk's hand shift under his fingers as Dirk's fingers cup his dick through his boxers.

"God," echoes Dirk, squeezing Dave's junk.

Dave lets go of Dirk's hand when it tugs free, and he wraps his arms around his neck instead as Dirk rolls him onto his back and gets on top. It's a little too much like their previous position for comfort, which sends little thrills of vulnerable anticipation through him, and okay, yeah, maybe the leverage is a little exciting. Should it be? He doesn't want to think about that, or the lines they're pissing all over.

Dirk shoves his hand right down till his palm is grinding against Dave's shaft and his fingertips are pressing behind Dave's balls. He squeezes again and Dave can't stop the hitch in his breath. Dirk kneads and squeezes, breathing hotly into Dave's hair, until Dave is fully hard, his trapped dick bulging through his open fly.

Dirk suddenly sits back to survey his handiwork, and Dave slaps his thigh. "You dick."

"Wait," says Dirk, and Dave grabs at his hands as he reaches out and rucks Dave's shirt up to his armpits. Dave knows his nipples are going tight and he tugs at Dirk's wrists. He opens his mouth to complain, but then Dirk is in his face. "So fucking hot," Dirk mumbles, and Dave's face goes warm. He lets Dirk's wrists go as he kisses him again, deep and dirty, Dirk's tongue filling his mouth.

Then Dirk is lifting the waist of Dave's boxers and pulling out his dick. His hand slides into Dave's underwear to palm his balls. They stop kissing, hover with their noses nearly touching as Dirk keeps exploring, Dave's heart hammering fast. Dirk strokes Dave's balls, running his finger along the seam and then lower, hooking behind them a little and pressing the tight skin of his taint.

The head of Dave's dick is definitely leaving little smears on his stomach where it is trapped by his waistband. It's all a little uncomfortable—cloth cutting into him at weird places, Dirk's hand pressed tight to him—but it's only winding him up more, making every tiny motion of Dirk's hand all the more intense.

"No butt stuff," Dave manages, when Dirk's fingers slide way too close to the city limits of Brown Town.

Dirk ducks down to snort into Dave's chest. "Dude, I wasn't even going there."

"Well you sure are touching a lot of things that aren't my dick, okay?"

"It's all about the delayed gratification." The way his lips graze Dave's nipple makes him twitch. "Besides, rest assured I wouldn't go spelunking without the proper equipment, planning, atmosphere and verbal agreement."

"Uh, well, that's good. But, um, I dunno if I'm ever gonna want that though, I don't think it's for me."

"Why?"

"I, uh, well, it doesn't sound like a lot of fun. Like, I dunno, I just don't think my body is wired that way."

Dirk has started massaging his balls in a way that's making his thighs tremble. He stops, then the back of his hand brushes Dave's dick as he slides it up to rub at Dave's groin muscles. Dude is going for one hell of a grope. Dave feels goosebumps rise on his arms.

"Well yeah, there is a chance it wouldn't do much for you. But don't knock it til you've tried it, at least."

"I think I'm good," says Dave, "I got a perfectly functional dick."

"That you do, bro." Dirk does something light and feathery that has Dave's cock twitching embarrassingly. "But, have you ever even tried p-stim?"

"Sorry, I got no clue what that is."

"It's an abbreviation of prostate stimulation."

"Pretty sure I just said I've never done butt stuff, dude, aren't you like some genius? Surely you can solve that one on your own."

Dirk hums and kisses Dave's neck, his fingers sliding back to Dave's taint and pressing down. "Can I try something, then? This is all I'm gonna do," he says. "If I can't make you come just like this, then…"

"…You owe me a burger."

"…No. Then we have learned something about your body."

"Burger."

"Fine."

Dirk's fingers press harder into the root of his dick, deep under the skin where it goes inside his body.

"Ow."

"Sorry," says Dirk, and his fingers start massaging a little further back, like he's looking for something. His lips catch Dave's nipple, and a thrill runs straight down to Dave's cock as teeth get introduced to the happenings.

Dirk rubs deep and slow in one particular spot, and after a while Dave feels something warm and weird wash through him. His dick is still lying hard against his stomach, sadly ignored, but even so it throbs a little as the warm feeling rolls through him again.

"What…"

Dirk's mouth makes a wet pop as he releases Dave's nipple. "Shh. Just go with it, relax. It feels good, right?"

"I dunno…"

"Should I stop?"

"…No…"

Dirk's fingers are sparking something weird and hot and deep inside him. Dave has never felt like this while jacking off. His fingers and toes buzz, he knows he's blushing down to his chest. That steady pressure doesn't let up, even though it must have been a while now, and Dave moans a little, mind going fuzzy. His whole body feels like it's being lit up by pulses of some kind of euphoric energy, fizzing and intense. Something is leaking from his dick, which feels heavy and huge and begging to be touched, but he can't scrape enough brain cells together to move his hands from their death grip on Dirk's back.

He gasps at a sharp bite over his other nipple. Dirk's hot tongue sweeps over the mark and he sends Dave tingling with a breathy sigh that cools the wet skin, makes Dave squirm when he slides to lie beside him to kiss and suck at Dave's neck, without once stopping those strange terrible circles that are stoking the bright arousal burning in his guts. How is this so fucking amazing? How is Dirk doing this? Their eyes meet for a second and heat jolts down Dave's spine. The fucker has this barely-there smug twist to his mouth, fuck why is he so hot? Dave is so aware of where their skin touches, his leaking dick, his taint and even his goddamn asshole. He aches and burns and pants.

It goes on and on, gets worse and worse until Dave thinks he's going to die.

"Fuck, fuck," he sobs, and then the energy rolls over violently. He can't help the hoarse shout that escapes him, the full body throb so intense his brain stops working and suddenly it's all rushing through him like a tsunami, sweeping him clean.

When he can open his eyes, there's a puddle of watery come on his belly and his dick is still rock hard. Its nearly purple.

Dave's mind is mush. He can still feel it like static under his skin. He feels warm and weird and goofy. Did he come? He has no idea.

Dirk presses one last time and more watery fluid puddles out of Dave's dick. It slides down the side of his belly and soaks into Dirk's shirt.

Dave tries to make words and fails. He nuzzles at Dirk's face instead and ends up in a wet sloppy kiss.

"That looked intense," says Dirk.

Dave makes a weak noise and rolls fully into Dirk. His body is still singing and his dick could go again. Again? Has it even gone once? God. He cuddles into Dirk some more, his face still burning hot and something weird and gooey spreading through his chest. God fucking damn.

"Dude," says Dirk, "you're getting your spizz all over me."

"Own it," mumbles Dave. "Claim your prize: the cock rocking privilege of getting covered in my—"

"It seems you have returned to the land of the articulate."

"Shut up, my dick is so hard."

"Yeah. It's like, purple. Your face is super red too," Dirk adds helpfully.

"I told you to shut up."

"I think we have conclusively proved that you are, in fact, wired for prostate stuff. That's what that was, if you hadn't gathered. Stop biting me. Can I go down on you?"

Dave moans and yanks weakly on Dirk's shirt. "Yes, dude, holy shit."

His body is still humming from that weird, full-body wave of pleasure, and when Dirk touches his cock he chokes a little. It's never been this sensitive. Dirk grips him lightly with one hand and works Dave's pants down nearly all the way with the other until he can shift down and settle between Dave's legs.

"Oh fuck, ah," Dave spits out as Dirk strokes him slowly and pushes one thigh out. Then he is enveloped in wet tight heat, and Dave can't help the really dumb noises he is making, which increase in pitch as Dirk's other hand ends up back in that mystery spot. Everything smells like sex. He kneads Dirk's shoulders and tries to shut his mouth.

God, the boy between his legs loves dick. His enthusiastic sucking sends weird horny thoughts spiralling through Dave's mind; fucking his throat til he gags, holding hands, opening his own mouth for a cock.

He feels the more familiar tug of orgasm building as Dirk's mouth takes him down again and again, so fucking perfect. And then he moans weakly as Dirk pulls off his dick entirely. Everything down there feels super wet. Dirk coughs a little, like he's trying to do it smoothly. It's so stupidly cute. "You're leaking like crazy." Dave makes a sound that is half arousal and half exasperation. "Seriously, it's like your dick is the NSA and I'm a plucky whistleblower."

"Not a lot of whistle blowing happening right now," Dave gripes, tugging Dirk's hair. He is so ready to come.

Dirk hauls himself back up and collapses beside Dave, kisses him. His mouth is a sticky bitter mess and Dave feels goosebumps rise all over his body. He whines around Dirk's tongue as Dirk works him over with his hand.

Dave feels kind of like he's going to die for the third time today. His hips are pushing helplessly into Dirk's fist and his open mouth rubs artlessly against Dirk's skin and finally, finally he tips over the edge with a sob and comes.

Afterwards he lies there panting and clutching at Dirk, feeling finally completely wiped. Dirk snickers and Dave realises he has jizz on his fucking chin. His arms are rubber and just flop uselessly when he tries to move.

"That whole experiment was a lot messier than I was expecting," says Dirk, wiping Dave's chin with his thumb.

"Sorry about your shirt," says Dave. "I… uh, that's never happened before."

Dirk snorts. "You sound like you're talking about premature ejaculation. This is like, the opposite of that. A biblical scale flood, a deluge of spunk sent to punish me for my sins."

Talk about sins still pokes Dave's guts a little in the bad way, but not enough to stop him snorting at Dirk's ridiculousness. He manages to wedge a hand between them and pats at Dirk's crotch. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, I'm a sexgod jizzmachine, now do you want backsies?"

Dirk grabs his hand and laces their fingers together. Something about it makes Dave's tired body tingle.

"How about we take it to the shower?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I BET YA CAN'T GUESS WHAT HAPPENS IN PART 2 (coming soon....)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, it's done! Have some shower sex ;)

Come is itching Dave's… everything. Dirk's shower suggestion sounds pretty appealing. "If you want. I mean, I feel like a Pollock painting. _Number 69_."

"You say, as though there was anything like mutual junk touching going on," says Dirk, hauling him to his feet, and Dave tries to right his mussed up clothes at least a little. It's a sticky and futile endeavour.

"You say, as though you weren't just harping on at me about delayed gratification."

"Whatever, pillow princess."

They bicker all the way to the bathroom, stumbling and bumping into each other not-quite-accidentally, Dave only making himself pull away once they're inside. He strips as fast as he can and throws the worst stuff in the sink. Behind him, the sound of the shower starts up.

"Dude," says Dirk, "do that later, you're fucking up the water pressure."

Dave stops trying to soak his clothes in the sink and turns around.

"Normally I'd be like, el-oh-el, you just want me to hurry up and suck your dick, but I know how serious you are about your damn water pressure."

"If you're going to break the home depot incident silence clause again, then you're handing me a free ticket to bring up the Owen Wilson thing." Damn him. "Wait, did you say you're gonna suck my dick?"

"Getting less likely now," grumbles Dave, but he shuts off the tap and leaves his clothes alone in favour of pulling back the curtain.

Sometimes Dirk can be really infuriatingly smooth. This is one of those times: the icy tiled wall hits Dave's back and when he opens his mouth in a gasp Dirk kisses him deeply. All the water is streaming down Dirk's shoulders, leaving Dave with the fine mist and Dirk's wet skin. He presses closer, cold and oh god Dirk's muscles, oh _shit_ Dirk's _tongue_ , but then remembers he is meant to have a job here.

Dave tries to wedge a hand between them, but—ugh, the come on his stomach and thighs is going slippery again from the water. There's _so much._

He draws away and scrubs at it under the spray, and Dirk's hands skim down his sides and back up. Dave's goosebumps intensify. "So, I believe you were saying something about blowjobs," Dirk says, tone not as neutral as he probably thinks, because sometimes he is _not_ actually that smooth. Even so, Dave's guts flip a little. It had kind of just been a joke. Maybe something of that shows on his face, because then Dirk says, "Or, not, whatever you're comfortable with."

Dave considers the merits of bashing his own head against the tiles.

"Like seriously," Dirk continues, voice getting more and more transparently desperate, "we can just have a nice, normal, traditional male bonding shower and I can take care of this by myself later. Don't—"

"Oh my dickhole shut up. You're not spanking it alone, what, that's the saddest thing I ever heard." Dave leans his hip into Dirk's boner. He has 0% clue what he is doing. Or saying. "Feel this fucking thing. Did watching me make a dumb sweaty mess of myself really get you that worked up?"

He expects Dirk to say something snappy back, but instead Dirk just gasps hotly against his shoulder and grinds harder into his hip. Oh.

Dave is kind of shocked at himself, at how easy it is right now to be wet and naked and rubbing together and kissing his bro. He still feels kind of gooey inside from that weird whatgasm. Maybe that's it. Dirk's lips press hard against his, and that's all the guy seems to have the presence of mind for. Fair. Dave pulls back and takes a deep breath, then gets down on his knees.

There are a few moments of awkward pushing and shuffling, Dave's eyes shut against the spray, until the the warm water is hitting his shoulder and Dirk has his back against a wall. Dave looks up, daring Dirk to say something stupid, but Dirk is just looking back at him, flushed to his chest, bangs curling wet on his forehead, pupils blown. Well, then.

Dave breaks their gaze, mouth dry, and looks at the dick in his face instead.

Yep, that sure is a dick. It's intimidatingly big from this angle, and Dave squashes that thought into the 'do not say out loud on punishment of death' box. He puts both hands on Dirk's hips and suddenly Dirk's are there covering his. He isn't quite sure he wants to know where Dirk is looking, so he closes his own eyes, licks his lips and, fuck it, kisses the head of Dirk's dick.

Just a peck of a kiss, heart hammering. Holy fuck, he did it. He kind of wants to hold it steady before he tries again, but at that moment Dirk's fingers slide between his, lacing together, and he really doesn't want to move, so he squeezes Dirk's hands and licks instead.

It tastes like‥. shower water. Dave sucks at the wet shaft a little, and then he can taste the skin underneath, kind of salty, warm. He slides his mouth along experimentally, wondering if the way Dirk touches him—slow, all over—is like, a cheat code to what Dirk himself likes or something, but the whole idea is so overwhelming he decides to just keep doing what he's doing. Go for fucking gold.

The shower is loud in his ears, weirdly soothing, but he can still hear Dirk's shallow breathing. Dave keeps kissing and sucking at the shaft, working up the courage to do something more than aimless suckling. Without his hands it's a little hard, and he feels kind of like a tool chasing Dirk's cock with his open mouth and tongue. He kisses at the head again, then sucks it slowly between his lips. Dave isn't an idiot, he has a dick, he knows to be careful of teeth.

"Ow, teeth," says Dirk above him.

"Shit, sorry." Dirk hums and squeezes his fingers again. Well, shit, there's some perspective Dave didn't expect to have.

He swallows the nervous babble about to come out and pushes Dirk's cock as far into his mouth as he can, and Dirk squeezes his hands hard and then lets go to pet at his shoulders and neck.

"Oh shit," says Dirk, "just like that…"

Something hot slides into Dave's guts. He gets a hand around the base of Dirk's cock to hold it steady, and okay yeah, this is a lot easier.

He gets a very slow rhythm going, and Dirk exhales shakily.

It's hard—his lips feel swollen and sensitive—his jaw hurts. His knees hurt. His own dick is throbbing a little between his thighs, why. Dirk's hips are moving on their own, very subtly, but still enough to push nearly to Dave's throat. He can feel tears stinging his eyes and snot he can't wipe away, and the hot water is nearly too much, pounding at his shoulder, but god it's worth it for the way Dirk is breathing, stomach tensing and jumping under Dave's touch.

On a whim, Dave slides his hand back to cup his ass, and Dirk's voice bleeds into his breathing. The next time Dave pulls off, his saliva is thick with bitter precum. He lets go of Dirk's dick to wipe at his face with his wrist, coughing and dodging the junk bobbing in his face. Fuck, he needs like six arms. Dave registers the sound of Dirk fumbling with something on the suction cupped rack above him, and then the cheap backup conditioner is hitting him in the thigh and bouncing off, ringing hollowly under the spray.

"If you're cool with it," says Dirk, and god he sounds so strange, "please can you put a finger in my ass?"

Dave's guts do a triple pike. "Dude, I've never done that before. I don't think it'll be any good."

"You don't need to do anything fancy, I just want to feel something there."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. If you… mm…"

Dave realises belatedly that his hand had found it's way back to Dirk's cock during the conversation. Oh well.

"…Is it going to be gross?"

"I am pretty sure it'll be fine."

"I thought you said like, preparation and… equipment and stuff was necessary."

"Talking about it actually will be gross," Dirk says, voice thick and eyes half-lidded, "so you can either take my word for it that it will most likely be fine. Or you can not do it, mm, yeah…?"

"Well, I guess we already are in the shower." Fuck, so smooth. Dave: the king of sexy talk. "Lemme. Uh."

After some slippery near-accidents Dave manages to slick up one hand with some conditioner, trusting that Dirk knows this is okay. Dirk helps out by shutting off the water, which Dave is thankful for, feeling overheated and flushed.

"You sure?"

"As long as you are."

Dave drops the bottle onto the shower floor and, heart thumping, lets Dirk guide his mouth back to his cock. It's easier like this, Dirk's hands gentle in his hair. He grips Dirk's ass with his clean hand and slides the other into previously uncharted territory. Well, uncharted by Dave, which is all he cares about right now. Like he's a racist explorer and he's branding Dirk's ass _terra nullius. Anus nullius_. (Dave is so glad his mouth is busy.)

Dirk's body accepts him nearly shockingly easily, hot and smooth inside. Dirk groans and Dave feels him squeeze like he's made of steel and oh man, no, Dave's boner is making an effort to come back. He can't concentrate on much else, just holds there in that unbelievably soft place and suckles at the head of Dirk's dick.

"Oh yeah, perfect, you're perfect," groans Dirk, and Dave flushes and tries to penetrate Dirk as deep as he can, tries to take him as deep as he can, chasing more.

"Stop, stop," says Dirk and lets go of Dave's hair to grasp his own dick as Dave's mouth slides off. "Don't…"

"Nn," Dave manages, coughing a little. He is pretty sure he knows what Dirk wants though, and leaves his hand exactly where it is.

"Fuck, I'm so close," says Dirk. His fist is pulling slowly at his cock right in Dave's face, balls drawn up tight and full.

"Do you want to come on me?" Dave blurts. Suddenly he kind of wants it—he feels so freaking dirty, all these weird things he's doing. He can taste Dirk's precum, he can feel Dirk's muscles clench around him.

Dirk groans a little and starts jacking himself faster. Dave's hand is in his own lap now, and he grips himself tight and watches as Dirk's jaw locks and his face goes intense and his asshole squeezes blindingly tight and then there's come, shockingly hot, hitting Dave's chest.

"Oh fuck," Dirk breathes, long and scratchy and Dave pulls his finger out, gets to his feet, thighs aching. Dirk shoves him into the wall and kisses him, and Dave hears himself moan into it, pleasure sparking through him. Dirk pulls Dave's slick wet body up against him, grabs his ass and pulls him up his thigh until Dave's riding it. He clutches at Dirk's shoulders, trying not to whine too desperately, and realises he's about to come just from this, just from bouncing on the tips of his toes, Dirk's thigh hard between his legs—this shouldn't be enough—but Dirk wants him like this so it's happening and Dave can't help it, he comes.

They wash up lethargically, Dirk soaping Dave's butt-hand with exaggerated flourish, even though he had been right and it hadn't been gross after all. Dave gets him back by using his expensive shampoo to wash off the come that had still been wet when they turned the water back on and had therefore turned into glue.

Neither can be bothered to dry off all the way before they flop into Dirk's bed, which is full of snipped pieces of wire for some reason, and they keep poking Dave in tender places. That's definitely the main reason he's mostly on top of Dirk. Yep.

Well, one of Dave's favorite things in the world is full body naked snuggles. He'd never say so, but wow. Dirk is tracing mindless patterns on his back and he has a hand in Dirk's hair and it's so nice he could drift off, but.

"Um," he starts, "would it be cool to talk about that stuff?"

He feels Dirk's eyelashes brush his cheek and what the fuck, that is so gay.

Dirk says, "I don't know which stuff you are referring to, but I'm nearly certain it'd be cool, so shoot."

Dave shifts and Dirk's hands smooth all over his back, fuck yeah.

"You're just. Pretty good at all this. Hey shut up, don't go getting a big head. You won't fit any of your hats and then what will you do? Bigger than it already is, I mean." Dirk's hands drift menacingly over Dave's ribs. "Okay okay okay okay no. Okay, I mean, you've obviously had… experience."

"Yeah?"

"Like," says Dave, "you know about all my exes. I kinda wanted to know about your stuff." _Because I was a shithead and you had to hide gay stuff from me_ , Dave thinks, but doesn't know how to say.

Dirk hums. "Well, I haven't really got real exes anyway. Do you count middle school?"

"Of course, I mean, Jade counts for me, so."

"Well then," says Dirk, "yes, I did date a dude in middle school. I can laugh at it now, looking back. We dated because we were the only gay kids in school, and also because we both liked horses."

"Oh my god," says Dave. His other hand is trapped between their chests, and he rubs at Dirk's chest where he can reach. "Did you guys kiss?"

Dirk huffs by his ear. "Yeah."

"Oh man, middle school you must have been, wow. I remember what you were like when we first met. You were into My Little Pony so hardcore. You had that horse icon everywhere."

"Yeah," says Dirk, "and you found that Lovecraftian bootleg toy of her and sent it to me for Christmas."

"The things I saw," says Dave, "googling for that fucking thing's name. Speaking of which, is that boyfriend, uh. Was he who you honed your mansex with?"

"Bro."

"Oh my god, was he?"

"We did experiment, yes."

Dave wiggles a bit and gets poked by stupid wire. "Did he punch your v-card?"

"Um, not in the way I assume you mean. That happened later, in high school."

"Thought you said you didn't have any exes past middle school bee-ess?"

"I don't. I haven't dated anyone I've slept with."

Dave isn't really surprised—he'd assumed Dirk was doing that sort of thing with girls anyway. It still makes him feel a little weird. He thinks of his two past girlfriends and the stuff they'd shared. He can't… he couldn't. Is that… kinda uncool?

"Oh," he says.

"You asked," says Dirk, and yeah that's definitely defensiveness in his tone.

Dave thumps him on the arm. "No, just. Was it… okay?"

Dirk's hands smooth down his back again and rest on the dip of his spine. "Yeah, you know. Messing around with older guys I met at house parties. I've never done anything I've regretted, if that's what you mean."

Dave isn't sure what he means, so he just arches a little into Dirk's hands and kisses the skin he can reach.

"I like you so much," he says, at the exact same time Dirk says, "But I've learned stuff other ways too."

"Uh, ok, what other ways?"

"No, what did you say?"

"Nothing, sorry, I didn't mean to cut you off…"

"Oh. Well, maybe I'll show you someday, if you ever get over your ass complex."

"Excuse you, I totally fingerbanged you in the shower. Besides, if anyone has an ass complex, it's you."

Dirk, predictably, takes this as an invitation to smack Dave's ass, which turns into a very brief wrestling match that ends when Dirk lands on a piece of wire.

Dave might be smiling, Dirk definitely is. Rolling around freeballing is always inherently funny.

Dave thinks, maybe Dirk's never done this, not quite like this. He thinks, well, if they're going to do this, then maybe he has some stuff to teach Dirk too.


End file.
